


Boy and his King

by Vitzy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Duke!Sam, Gen, King!Dean, Poor boy! Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5443343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vitzy/pseuds/Vitzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young street boy is caught in a crime and his fate is to be decided by his King. Will the King pardon him or will he be punished. Additional tags will follow and rating may go up in future chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters are not mine (obviously)

The boy was sobbing, begging to be forgiven. He had committed a crime by trying to steal the bread but he was repentant for it. His black hair was sticking to his head. His blue eyes, bright with the continuous shedding of tears and his face stricken with splashes of mud from where the baker had struck Castiel to the ground.  
“Forgive me, sir, please. I won’t do it again,” Castiel pleaded with the man looming over him. Before the man could reply the baker sneered at Castiel and said, “Won’t do it again? A likely story. A dirty street urchin like you cannot be trusted. “  
Castiel turned tearful eyes towards the baker and fell to his knees with a thud. “I was only taking it for my sister. She’s sick. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll pay you back!” Castiel was getting desperate but the baker’s sneer only became more pronounced. “I don’t need your filthy money, you filthy thief. Take him away Gadreel and have him punished for his crime.”

The man, Gadreel, looming over Castiel, stepped closer. Castiel gave a strangled cry and tried to shuffle back on his knees but his only garment, a beige coloured trench coat, got in the way and Castiel fell in a heap at Gadreel’s feet.  
“Get up,” the man said sharply.  
“I’m begging you not to take me away. My sister needs me. She’s sick. Please”  
Gadreel got hold of the hair on Castiel’s head and pulled firmly, forcing a weeping Castiel to stand up.  
“Please. My sister, she needs food.” A large hand connected with Castiel’s cheek and he sobbed even harder. Gadreel’s hand in Castiel’s hair jerked his head up and Castiel was forced to look directly at the large man.  
“Silence.” He hissed. “ You are a thief. You stole from Marv and now your fate lies in the hands of the King. “

“Thank you Gadreel. Please convey my regards and apologies for the inconvenience to his majesty.” Marv, the baker spoke.  
Gadreel nodded once at Marv and marched Castiel out of the bakery.  
…

It wasn’t often that the King and his brother, a duke, got to spend some time alone. In fact the last time that Dean and Sam had a chance to sit and talk of matters other than hunts and warfare was when their parents were still amongst them. And John and Mary of the Kingdom Winchester had been dead for many years. It was strange to say the least but the Winchesters were not ones to look a gift horse in the mouth. Reclining back on his velvet cushioned chair, Dean looked at his younger brother.  
At the age of 31, Sam had many achievements to his name. He had defeated many Kingdoms and fought alongside his brother to bring glory to their Kingdom. Despite his long hair, well maintained body and gentlemanly airs, Sam of Winchester, Duke of the Kingdom was as lethal as a poisoned arrow. Dean was lucky to have a man of such calibre not only in his Kingdom but as a loyal brother.  
“How is Jessica? Any news on her father’s kingdom?” Dean asked casually.  
“She is well. She wanted to come to visit you but she was taken ill last week. As of the kingdom. That is a worry. Her father deteriorates day by day and the attacks are increasing. “ Sam’s forehead was furrowed and the worry lines were prominent. He met his brother’s green eyes and gave a tight smile. “But it is nothing that the brother of King of Winchester cannot handle.”

Dean smirked at that. “I do not doubt it for a minute, brother. If anyone can kill and destroy the enemy it would be you.” Sam made to reply but just then a knock was heard on the oak doors.  
Dean’s easy smile disappeared and a look of quiet authority came over his face.  
“Enter,” he spoke in a low and commanding voice.  
The door creaked open and there stood a young servant, her eyes determinedly focussed on the floor. She stood there, her blonde hair flowing down her shoulders which were trembling slightly. She stood in the doorway and made no move to actually enter through the door she had just opened.  
Dean, although on the outside made no show of emotions, was amused. Was she scared to speak in front of him? Did she think that he was an alien to whom one must not talk? But it was not he who took the poor girl out of her misery. It was his brother, Sam. The same Sam who with one hand could choke an enemy to death but also speak with calm and a softness that Dean had never quite mastered.  
“Walk through the door, close it behind you and breathe. Once you have taken your breath and calmed your heart, you may tell us what business it is you have with your King and Duke.” As Sam’s words washed over the girl, her trembling lessened and she trained her eyes at the legs of the chairs the two men were sitting on, rather than the floor.

It was progress at least. 

“Please my lords, I have come to inform you that a young boy has been escorted to the judgement room and is awaiting your decision.” The girl spoke rather quickly and stopped just as abruptly as she had begun.

Sam’s frown was back in place and Dean sighed loudly before uttering, “How inconvenient.” The girl, as if sensing the irritation rolling off the brothers, bowed low and scurried out of the room as soon as Sam waved in her direction as a dismissal.

They stared after her for a second. In her hurry, the girl had forgotten to close the door. “Well, Dean, seems like you have a fun evening to look forward to. I will take your leave now and meet with you in the morning.” Sam stood from his chair and made towards the opened door.  
“Trust me. There is absolutely no fun in dealing with thieves. I just hope this one has enough sense to not lie,” Dean grumped.  
Sam gave a chuckle and turned back to his brother. “Try not to scare the thief too much.”  
Dean snorted. “Please I’m not half as scary as your face is.”  
“Jerk,” Sam said jovially.  
“Bitch,” Dean retorted and sighed once more as he was left to prepare for dealing with a misbehaving citizen.  
…  
The first thing that Dean registered was that the oil in the lamps had extinguished a long time back but in the darkness he could just make out a small huddled boy. He cleared his throat, loudly, for the boy’s benefit. Dean couldn’t help but smile when the huddled boy startled and made to stand up. He could literally smell the fear oozing out of every pore and hear the sound of his rapid heart beats.  
“At ease, boy,” he said softly. “Save the excitement for a different day. You and I are going to have a lengthy chat soon. But first let us go to a room where I can actually see your thieving face.”

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, plot is

The boy gulped audibly and Dean suppressed a smirk. It wasn’t often he was requested to deal with miscreants and everyone knew that King Dean only managed those miscreants who had committed a big crime. But looking at the shivering boy, his blue eyes darting furtively towards the door, as if planning an escape – dumb, foolish boy, and the almost audible thrum of his heart, Dean couldn’t fathom what this boy could have possibly done to warrant a royal inquest. Still. Rules were rules and looks could be deceiving.   
“This way, miscreant, and mind you keep up.” He led the way, expecting the boy to follow, which he did albeit slowly.   
Dean knew the palace like the back of his hand. He had grown up here and moved out when he was eighteen to finish his studies in Latin, History and Political Science. He had then spent four years as a soldier on the Royal Guard’s army, slowly rising up the ranks. At his father’s sudden death, Dean had returned, a battle hardened man and a King whose reputation preceded him. Now, Dean tilted his head slightly, and heard rather than saw the boy’s heart rate quicken. At this rate, the boy would have a cardiac collapse before they even managed to get to his royal chamber. But he said nothing, instead he led the thief down many winding passages, lined with portraits of the members of the Kingdom of Winchester. Finally, Dean reached a large oak door. It was guarded with two men, both dressed in black, with glistening silver swords, currently sheathed. Upon their arrival, the two guards sprung aside at once. “Your majesty, would you like us to be present?”   
Dean glanced behind him at the boy, who was now chewing on his lip and replied in the negative. The thought of needing protection from this slip of a boy seemed ludicrous. But then again he was a criminal. “I shall summon you, if your assistance is required.”  
…

The room Cas entered, was as big as the hut he and his sisters and brothers lived in. The furniture inside was the same expensive looking strong wood than the door was made of. There was a dresser on one side, overlooking a window to the courtyard. The bed was in the centre of the room with curtains on a rail around it, currently tied back. The bed itself could probably have fit four grown men on it, comfortably, It was draped with crimson coloured sheets and pillows which made a small sigh escape Castiel’s mouth. When was the last time he had laid a head on a soft surface? In the space between the dresser on the far right side and the centre, where the bed was, there was a recliner with a rug – also the same crimson colour. Beyond the bed, Castiel’s eyes bugged upon seeing a stage where sure enough King Dean was making his way to sit on the grandiose throne. Castiel swallowed. Scared was an understatement. His mouth was dry and he wished he would just melt into the floor. What had he deserved to be punished by the King himself?   
“So thief, what were you trying to steal?”  
Castiel’s heart galloped. The King was speaking to him. He was speaking to him. Panic was setting in, closing in and he thought he would die - but then a sharp command sliced through the fog in his head.   
“Come here, kneel.”  
He could do that. Castiel moved and found himself kneeling in front of the stage, facing the King but looking at his feet. “I’ll ask you again, and this time I require an answer.”  
“Bread,” Cas whispered.  
“Speak up, thief!” The King’s voice came out harsh, as if he was loosing patience. That was not good, the longer the King kept talking to him the further away his punishment would be. Castiel mustered as much courage as he could and spoke a decibel louder.  
“Bread,” he uttered and watched as the King’s frown deepened. “I’m sorry,” he said, the apology tumbling out of his mouth without his consent.  
“Just bread?”  
…  
Dean frowned, confused. Bread? Sure, stealing bread was a crime but people stole bread all the time. They were whipped by someone in the royal guard and that was the end of it. Why was he summoned to manage this particular thief?  
“Just bread?” he inquired, leaning forward and watching the perplexity surround the boy.   
“I-I-I, N-No, I m-mean, y-yes,” the boy stammered.  
Dean raised an eyebrow at the boy and watched as once again the boy looked away. But now Dean was getting annoyed. Sam only came to visit a few times in the year and now this thief – whose only crime was to steal bread, probably judging by his figure, because he was hungry – had interrupted him and couldn’t even fess up without stammering. Dean decided a different tack, one he hoped would elicit some response from the boy.  
“I’m going to punish you now, boy. Stealing won’t be tolerated in this Kingdom.” As predicted, the boy’s head shot up but instead of anger in his azure eyes, there were tears. But it was the first time the boy had looked directly at him and in his entire life, Dean had not felt so moved. A strangled sob shocked Dean out of his gaze and he remembered who the little boy really was. A thief – albeit just bread.  
“No point in crying now. Take your punishment and we can forget this incident.” The boy’s whole body seemed to sag. That wasn’t acceptable. Punishment was a form of toughening up and strangely he almost wished that the boy had been tough enough to overthrow his captors and actually manage to steal the damn bread. Time to start the toughening act now. “Address me properly when I speak to you.” He barked out, and begin rising from his throne. Hoping that the boy wouldn’t disobey, but blessedly he heard a gasped ‘Yes, your majesty,’ in the space between him and the kneeling boy.  
“Good,” he said smoothly and went to stand behind the boy. “I am glad that you are not a disobedient thief. One crime is bad enough.”  
“Yes, your majesty,” a slight break in the voice.  
“What is your name, thief”  
“It is Castiel, your majesty”  
Castiel. Strange name for a strange thief. Dean shook his head and resisted the sudden unsettling urge he had to envelope the boy in a soothing embrace.   
“Stand up, Castiel. It is time for your punishment. A whipping should suffice.”  
Dean moved back as Castiel began standing, the shaking of his limbs obvious and quite alarming.  
In a manner very unlike that of a King, Dean reached out an arm and steadied the shaking boy. “Breathe. Easy now, its just a whipping. You’ve had worse, I’m sure.”  
At that Castiel’s eyes met his and for a moment neither spoke. Then Castiel looked away, his shaking worsened as he replied, “No, your majesty, I have not.”  
Once again, wrong footed and slightly unsettled, Dean replied in his normal authoritative voice.  
“Well, there’s always a first time for everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC...  
> Kudos and Comments are appreciated

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first ever Supernatural fanfiction. It took me 10 seasons to actually feel confident writing in this fandom. Hope it was okay. Send me your thoughts in a comment. This was supposed to be a one-shot but its kind of getting late here so the rest of the story will follow in subsequent chapters.  
> Peace  
> -Vitzy-


End file.
